


Careful

by you_were_my_stars



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 11:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18872284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_were_my_stars/pseuds/you_were_my_stars
Summary: The sound of footsteps coming slowly up the stairs shook David from his thoughts. A moment later, he pulled the door open to find Jack, but what he saw nearly made his heart stop.





	Careful

Pacing, David tried not to look at his watch. He tried not to feel nervous or frustrated. He tried to convince himself he was in the right place. Everything was fine. Jack had told him to meet here, in the small upper room out back of Medda’s. It wasn’t unlike Jack to be late sometimes, but he’d gotten pretty good about not making his best friend wait very often. 

They’d been doing this for a while. Catching each other for a few spare minutes or hours when they could. Just to talk, to get away from everything. Sometimes early in the morning or late at night. Occasionally they would sell together, but that just wasn’t the same, they were always too busy. Before this, David hadn’t had any real friends in a long time. People didn’t usually listen to him, but Jack did. For whatever reason, Jack always seemed interested in hearing about David’s day, or his week, or his opinions about whatever book he’d been reading. And Jack, well, he’d mentioned once that David was the only person he had that didn’t make him feel more like a parent than a friend. It was nice. 

It felt good to feel special to someone. _Especially someone like Jack,_ David admitted to himself. So when Jack had grabbed his shoulders from behind that morning and muttered, “Medda’s, eight tonight,” in his ear, he couldn’t help but smile. That is, once his stomach had uncoiled itself and his lungs stopped fluttering. David tried not to think about it much, but whenever Jack touched him, sparks seemed to run through his veins.

After what felt like hours, the sound of footsteps coming slowly up the stairs shook David from his thoughts. A moment later, he pulled the door open to find Jack, but what he saw nearly made his heart stop. Jack was covered in dirt and sweat. His clothes were torn here and there, exposing a few nasty cuts down his body, his lips were swollen, and he had a nasty bruise forming on his right cheek. That wasn’t the worst of it though. He had one hand pressed firmly against his forehead, but it wasn’t doing much good. Blood streamed out between his fingers and down his arm. His sleeve was stained red up to the elbow. “Hey, Davey,” he croaked.

Confused and startled, David helped him limp inside and sat him on the edge of the bed. “Jackie, what happened?” He asked, going to get some water, “Who did this to you?”

Jack just shrugged and shook his head a little. David knelt down on the floor in front of him and sat a large bowl of water in Jack’s lap. He hadn’t been able to find a rag, so, as quickly and casually as he could, he unbuttoned his own shirt and vest and pulled his undershirt off over his head. He started to cover himself up again but realized that he would probably just get his clothes dirty, so he left them off. He then took the smaller garment and dipped it into the water.

David chewed on his lower lip and tried to pull Jack’s hand out of the way. Jack hesitated, frozen in place, eyes wild. “Hey…” David cooed, “it’s alright, let me help.” 

When he finally got a view of the wound, his eyes widened. It looked awful, deep enough that it must have been done with a blade. Jack hissed and tensed at the first pass of the damp fabric across his bloodied face. “Try to relax, Jack. That’s it, breathe,” David managed to keep his tone calm and soothing, despite the worry gripping his chest. He watched as Jack let his nervous eyes slip shut, trusting.

After a few minutes of slow, careful work, he decided the cut was about as clean as it was going to get, then looked around the room for something, anything that could help stop the bleeding. In a drawer, he found a roll of wide ribbon. Hoping no one would notice, he tore off a large portion and folded most of it into a thick, smooth square. He pressed it firmly to the cut, trying not to notice Jack wincing, and used the rest of the material he’d taken to wrap around Jack’s head and keep the makeshift bandage in place. With the main problem managed, Davey re-wet his undershirt in the bowl and moved on to clean off the rest of Jack's face, doing his best to be quick without causing more pain.

After a minute or so, Jack eased. The sting dulled a little as he got used to it. It still wasn’t comfortable, but he knew he had to keep still, so he tried to direct his attention away from the pain. For the first time, he noticed that Davey’s left hand was resting on his face, it was probably there to keep him still, but Davey’s thumb was moving, absent-mindedly stroking Jack’s uninjured cheekbone. Jack didn’t usually let his mind go there, not with Davey anyway, but he needed a distraction. He let himself focus on how close they were. Gentle fingers on his skin, an elbow keeping steady on his thigh, the brush of shaky breath on his neck when Davey shifted to see better. 

Once his eyes were wiped clean, Jack tentatively opened them, glancing around the familiar, dimly lit room. He looked down and saw Davey, kneeling between his knees, completely bare from the waist up. Jack swallowed. The younger boy was still clearly preoccupied, so Jack was free to stare for the time being. He watched the concern and concentration on his friend’s face for a moment, then studied as much of Davey’s form as he could see, taking in the curves of his neck and waist. Jack started to feel his stomach tighten, so he let his eyes close again. Now really wasn’t the time.

It didn’t take long for Jack to steady himself. But what he didn’t expect was the feeling of Davey’s hands leaving his face, and beginning to unbutton his shirt. Jack shifted a little but tried not to act surprised. David tried to keep his hands from shaking. He told himself this was normal, there was nothing to overthink. He’d offered to help, and Jack really had started to bleed through his shirt. But still, it was Jack. There were places where the fabric had stuck to his cuts, so as David worked his way down, he would run a hand along Jack’s skin, pulling the shirt away when necessary. Jack hadn’t been prepared for _that_ either.

David took the bowl of water from Jack’s lap and set it on the floor, giving him access to the bottom few buttons. As he unstuck the last bit of fabric from a cut on Jack’s waist, he said, “Are you gonna tell me about it?”

Jack sighed, “There’s not much to tell,” he sounded a little hoarse, “I got my ass beat.”

“Yeah,” said Davey, sounding more worried than frustrated, “by somebody with a knife, I got that part. But what happened?”

After a pause, he answered, “It was two guys, they wanted what I had on me, I’m sure they knew I just got done workin’ but I didn’t give ‘em anything.”

David started in again, using his undershirt as a rag, wiping away the blood around a slice beneath Jack’s collarbone, “Why can’t you just run away sometimes?”

Jack felt some resentment rising in his chest. He didn’t pick this fight. He didn’t want for this to happen. But when he met Davey’s eyes, the anger in him melted. “It’s just…” he thought for a moment, “I figure if I run away, they pick on someone slower.” 

“You gotta find a less painful charity, pal.”

For the first time that night, Jack cracked a smile, “Why? You make such a good nurse.”

David snorted but didn’t say anything else as he continued wiping the blood off of Jack’s stomach. Jack could feel his heart pounding as the other boy braced with a hand on his waist. When he’d finished, David sat forward and helped Jack pull out of his sleeves. As he set the ruined shirt aside, he risked a quick glance. He’d seen Jack like this before, just never when they were alone, in a place so dark and quiet. He made quick work of Jack’s arms, They were filthy, marked here and there with bits of dirt and blood, but largely uninjured. 

Finally, David set the bowl of water back on Jack’s lap and took one of Jack’s hands in both of his and submerged it in the water. Jack watched Davey with a smile. He could’ve washed his own hands, but he didn’t want this to stop. David was rubbing the backs of his hands, moving his thumbs in little circles, taking extra care around Jack’s freshly split knuckles, and scraping the dirt and dried blood from under his nails.

Finally, Davey took away the water and returned to his place in front of Jack to dry off his hands and arms. When he began to pull away, Jack caught one of Davey’s hands in his. Jack’s voice was impossibly soft, “Hey…” he stared into brown eyes, not knowing how to continue, how to tell Davey a thousand things he could never say out loud. His heart was pounding, he was sure that at any second Davey would pull away, laugh, play it off like any other joke between them. But Davey stayed put. 

“Jack, I’m not going anywhere.”

Gently, almost shyly, Jack took Davey’s chin in his other hand, leaned in, and kissed him, then pulled back quickly, shaking a little. Those brown eyes were so wide. Jack tensed, waiting for the consequences, afraid of what he’d done. But Davey smiled, stood up off the floor, and kissed back. Jack moved back away from the edge of the bed and guided the other to sit on his lap. They both shivered as their bare chests pressed together. David could hardly breathe. His hands wandered up into Jack’s hair. He could feel warm, calloused fingers tracing his spine. He could have stayed forever.

When the two eventually did separate, neither could stop grinning. Jack shook his head, “Sorry Davey I just… thank you.”

Davey pressed his lips to Jack’s bruised cheek, “You’re welcome.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
